


the beasts of wanting

by wholesome_gay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autumn, Awkwardness, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First War with Voldemort, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Lack of Communication, Living Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, POV Remus Lupin, Post-Hogwarts, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Sirius Black's Flying Motorbike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholesome_gay/pseuds/wholesome_gay
Summary: It's 1979 and Remus and Sirius are roommates once again. Things left unsaid start getting in the way.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 188





	the beasts of wanting

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "I Hear Them Calling" by Rae Spoon

On a Friday evening in September, Remus came home from work to find Sirius tinkering with a motorbike in the living room of their flat.

"What," Remus said, waving his hand at the scene before him, "is this?"

Sirius looked up at him, eyes bright, and smiled. "This, Moony, is a motorbike."

Remus hung his denim jacket on one of the hooks by the door. "I know what a motorbike is, Sirius." Remus made his way to the couch and let himself sink into the cushions, exhausted but intrigued (if a little irritated; there were definitely oil stains on the rug). "I meant, what is it doing here?"

"Bought it off a bloke in Camden for cheap." Sirius pointed his wand at the engine and muttered something under his breath. 

Remus untied the laces of his boots. "Are you _charming_ it?" 

Sirius grinned. "I thought it could use a little tune up."

Remus chewed his lip, torn between exasperation and amusement. 

Sirius stood up, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, "Want to go for a ride when I'm done?"

His instinct was to say no, absolutely not, but then he thought about what it would entail—holding onto Sirius tightly—and his common sense abandoned him. "Alright."

“Wow, that was easy,” Sirius said, making himself comfortable on the sofa next to Remus. “I thought you would need a lot of convincing.”

“Shut up,” Remus told him, not liking what was being implied about his personality.

“Make me,” Sirius suggested.

Remus put his hand over Sirius’s mouth. Sirius licked his hand in retaliation. 

“You’re disgusting,” Remus said, wiping _his_ hand on Sirius’s jeans.

“I promise you my mouth is very sanitary.”

"Oh, well in that case you can lick me as much as you like," Remus joked.

Sirius took this as an invitation. He turned into Padfoot and licked Remus's cheek. 

Remus pushed him away half-heartedly. "Bad dog." He could have done without the dog slobber, but, as always, he liked when Sirius gave him his full attention. Fucking around like this made Remus feel like they were fifteen again, not in a war, not responsible for feeding themselves and paying rent and figuring out how to get through another month. 

Remus had been living in Sirius's flat for five weeks and three days, since James’ and Lily’s wedding. It was good; it was a nicer place than he ever could have afforded on his own, probably nicer than anywhere he'd live for the rest of his life. Sirius was almost always around because he didn't have a job, apart from his unpaid work for the Order, and didn't seem to think one was necessary. He'd gotten good at cooking, blowing smoke rings, and making Remus generally feel wanted—except when he mentioned James and Remus was reminded that he was a piss poor replacement for Sirius's best friend and would always be second rate. But it was good: better than he could have hoped for his second year out of school.

"Curry for dinner?" Sirius asked.

"Perfect."

Remus put on _A Night at the Opera_ and Sirius started chopping up onions.

* * *

Sirius had the motorbike propped up on the curb outside of their flat. 

"You charmed it to _fly?_ " Remus said, repeating what Sirius had just told him with dismay.

"Didn't I tell you that?" Sirius pulled on fingerless gloves. "I thought you knew. What did you think I was doing?"

"I thought you'd spelled it to, I don't know, shoot flames out of the exhaust or something-"

"Brilliant idea, Moony," Sirius said with a teasing smile.

"-but a _flying_ motorbike was not what I had in mind." Remus was very much rethinking his decision to join Sirius on his first ride—or flight, rather. "You can't just _fly_ over London. It's not even cloudy tonight."

"Obviously I thought of that." Sirius tied his hair back. "The disillusionment charm will take effect as soon as we take off."

Remus tried to think of an excuse to go back inside that didn’t seem pathetic. He wasn’t having any luck.

Sirius zipped up his leather jacket and threw a leg over the bike. Fuck, he looked good. “Are you coming or not?” Sirius hadn’t obtained helmets for them, of course; to Sirius, danger was never more than an afterthought.

“Fine,” Remus snapped, feeling himself pulled to Sirius like a magnet. Remus climbed on behind him. It was more comfortable than a broom, at least. Remus placed his arms loosely around Sirius’s waist, careful (as always) not to give away what he’d kept hidden for so long.

“You’re going to have to hold on tighter than that,” Sirius told him. His tone implied that Remus was the one being difficult.

Remus adjusted his hold on Sirius, and Sirius started the engine. It was absurdly loud. 

“Couldn’t you have muffled it?” Remus shouted.

“I like it loud,” Sirius yelled back. Sirius gave a cursory glance to their surroundings—checking to be sure no one was within sight, Remus supposed—and then they took off. 

Remus’s stomach dropped as they ascended. He squeezed his eyes shut. He was not fond of heights. 

Sirius whooped, clearly enjoying himself. The autumn air whipped past them, damp and chilly.

Remus wanted to be angry at Sirius for making him do this, but the thing was that Sirius hadn’t _made_ him do anything. It was Remus’s fault for being so damn head-over-heels for him.

When Remus opened his eyes, he could see London sprawled out beneath them, thousands of yellow lights like a constellation on the ground. Even through his terror, he was awestruck by the beauty of it.

“Alright, Moony?” Sirius called to him.

Remus leaned against Sirius’s back. “Alright,” he said, close to Sirius’s ear so that he could be heard over the noise. 

* * *

It became a thing they did. Once or twice a week, always in the evening or at night. After dinner, after an Order meeting, after a visit to James’ and Lily’s, after returning from a mission. The initial fear of being so far from the ground wore off after a few flights. Remus never thought he’d get to be so close to Sirius for such an extended period of time. Sure, he would’ve liked to hold Sirius in other situations as well, but this was enough. And if the whole affair turned him on a little, no one else needed to know that. Remus was good at ignoring the guilt that sat at the bottom of his stomach like too many potatoes. After all, they both got something out of it: Sirius, with an aversion to being alone, got company, and Remus got Sirius, as much as he ever would.

* * *

Since graduating, Remus still spent most of his full moons at the Shack. At first, Remus thought it was very generous of Dumbledore to allow him this. Sirius never thought so—“it’s not like anyone else is using it”—but Dumbledore easily could have denied him access after graduation. Lately, Remus had started to suspect that this kindness might not be without a price; he just wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

Nevertheless, it meant that he could continue transforming in the company of his friends, something he could not do from his parents’ basement. That meant he could wake up from a moon night without being covered in blood. Although he definitely had a few bruises.

“Okay there, Moony?” James asked, placing Remus’s robes on the floor next to him.

“Never better,” Remus joked. 

Wormtail scurried down from the wardrobe, Remus’s wand in his mouth. He dropped it near Remus and changed back into human form. “Merlin, you really gave us a run for our money last night.”

“God, what happened?” Remus asked, tensing up and trying to collect the strength to push himself up from the ground.

“Nothing bad,” Sirius said from somewhere behind him. “You were just very energetic.”

“This isn’t going to be so easy when we’re forty, is it?” James remarked, rubbing his eyes. “I’m completely knackered.”

Remus would be lucky if he lived to forty.

“Any injuries?” Sirius asked him quietly.

“Nothing significant,” he replied.

The others turned away while he changed, then the four of them walked slowly to the apparition point in Hogsmeade. Their use of the Shack didn’t come with a complementary stay in the hospital wing. James was on Remus’s right and Sirius on his left; they supported most of his weight so he could focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Seeing the Hogwarts grounds in autumn colors lit up by the sunrise made Remus feel fiercely nostalgic. Nineteen felt old, sometimes. He wasn’t sure if his friends felt the same.

By 8:00am, they had made themselves comfortable at James’ and Lily’s. Remus had settled into the pull-out bed in the living room and the other four were sitting around the kitchen table, eating the breakfast Lily prepared. “I feel so domestic. How disgusting,” she’d said, amused. Remus knew that, despite her statement, she was actually happy to have them there. It was apparent in the care she put into the food and the warming charm she cast on the quilt Remus was wrapped up in.

The bacon smelled good, but it was still too early in the day for Remus to eat anything without feeling nauseous. He kept drifting off and then waking up when someone laughed or clinked their silverware against a plate. 

Suddenly, Sirius was kneeling on the floor next to him. “Ready to go home?”

“Sure,” Remus mumbled. He didn’t feel like moving, but he’d rather be in his own bed than this one. As pleasant as the Potters’ house was, he didn’t want to intrude.

Sirius grasped Remus’s hand and helped him up. Remus wished he wouldn’t let go. He did.

Remus gave Lily a hug, waved to James and Peter, then stepped into the fireplace with Sirius.

“Want me to run a bath for you?” Sirius asked as Remus collapsed onto the couch.

“That’s alright,” Remus said through a yawn. “I can do it.”

“Or I could,” Sirius challenged. “You’re so stubborn.” Sirius smiled at him and then went into the bathroom and turned on the tap. 

Soaking in the hot water, Remus tried to focus on how grateful he was for the people he had in his life now rather than thinking about how they might not be there in the future.

When he got out, Sirius had tea and toast ready for him. The tea was just how Remus liked it: Earl Grey with a splash of milk, no sugar.

* * *

At the Order debriefing the following week, Dumbledore calmly told Sirius off for his behavior on their latest mission. Privately, Remus agreed with Dumbledore’s assessment, but he felt like the point had been made and Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. Or maybe he did, but Remus wasn’t going to be the one to do it. 

Sirius was sitting on the couch, smoking his third menthol cigarette of the evening, agitation evident in the minute movements of his fingers. He’d refused the leftover bangers and mash Remus offered to heat up for dinner. He wasn’t interested in a butterbeer, either.

Last time Sirius was in this mood, he’d shifted restlessly between Padfoot and his human form until Remus yelled at him to just choose one already. Sirius had slunk off to his room as a dog.

“Want to go for a ride?” Until now, it was only Sirius who made this suggestion. 

"Yes," Sirius said, putting out his unfinished cigarette in the ashtray Peter had given him as a housewarming gift. 

Within three minutes, they were airborne. It was raining, so Remus cast a water-repellant charm that was fairly effective in keeping them dry. The October chill snuck beneath Remus's coat and scarf.

Dumbledore had reprimanded Sirius because Sirius left his unit (for lack of a better word) defenseless in order to protect the unit Remus and Lily were part of. Luckily, no one was injured—or, god forbid, anything worse—but it was demonstrative of Sirius's unwillingness to follow orders when his priorities lead him in a different direction. And there was no guarantee that no one would be hurt next time.

The motorbike started veering downward. 

“What are you doing?” Remus shouted.

“Landing,” Sirius told him.

“Where?!”

Sirius didn’t respond. They ended up on the roof of an apartment building. The rain had stopped. Sirius got off the bike first. He walked over to the edge of the roof and sat down. There might have been a nice view of the city, but the air was heavy and gray with moisture, so there wasn’t much to see. 

Remus shot a drying charm at the ground next to Sirius and took a seat. He could feel the cold concrete through his clothes. 

Sirius twirled an unlit cigarette between his fingers. 

Remus shoved his hands deeper in his coat pockets, resisting the urge to still Sirius’s restless hands by grabbing them.

It was quiet except for a few cars in the distance, and a dog barking somewhere just within hearing range. 

He could see his own breath, and Sirius’s: ephemeral clouds that dissipated before having the chance to touch.

Sirius tucked the cigarette away in his jacket and tapped his fingers on the leg of his jeans. 

“You know I’d do anything for you, right, Moony?”

Remus looked at Sirius and then away quickly, directing his gaze to his own shoes. It occurred to him that Sirius was really very good to him, the kind of friend Remus never thought he’d have, and Remus was using him as a stand-boyfriend. It was selfish and shameful; Remus decided right then that it had to stop.

“I’m tired,” he said, standing up. His knees ached. “Let’s go home.”

So they did.

* * *

When Sirius next asked Remus to go for a ride, Remus politely declined and watched Sirius try (and fail) to hide his disappointment. He asked again a week later and seemed resigned when Remus responded in the negative. Remus held his resolve; it was for the best. If Sirius really wanted company, he could always go to James and Lily’s, or meet Peter at the pub for a drink. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other friends. And the motorbike rides hadn’t been significant to him the way they were for Remus.

Somehow, though, the two of them ended up spending less time together, even when they were both home. Sirius cooked less and was more often behind the closed door of his bedroom. This was fine with Remus, really, because he had recently been tasked with doing research for the Order and didn’t need the distraction that Sirius’s presence usually was.

Then Remus lost his job at the market in Kensington. Between time off for the moon and for Order missions, he’d used up his manager’s patience. With such meager wages, he hadn’t been able to put any money aside for savings, which meant that he was now unable to contribute to rent. It was time to move back home.

Remus was sure that if he told Sirius this, Sirius would try to convince him to stay and not pay rent, which would be unacceptable, so he decided not to tell Sirius until the last minute, when it would be too late to argue.

* * *

Sirius came into the flat while Remus was packing his record collection into a used cardboard box. His records were mixed in with Sirius’s, so he was kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, sorting through all of them.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked, hanging his jacket by the door.

“Packing,” Remus told him, tucking _Pink Moon_ into the box.

“For what?” He sounded confused.

Remus took a deep breath, dreading Sirius’s reaction. “I’m moving out.”

Sirius didn’t say anything right away. Remus looked up to see him staring out the window, arms crossed, frowning.

“When?” Sirius said finally.

Remus ran his finger along the edge of the cardboard box. “Tomorrow.”

“Fuck.”

Remus rifled through another stack of records. 

“Thanks for telling me,” Sirius spat, then strode into his room and slammed the door behind him.

Well. It could have been worse.

* * *

Remus sat on the end of the twin bed he’d slept in for most of his life, mattress springs creaking beneath him. His parents had welcomed him home warmly, and he appreciated that. But he could feel his mother’s worry like a scarf too tight around his neck. And his father seemed completely unsurprised that Remus was back, as though he’d never expected Remus to be self-sufficient for long. Remus hated him for being right. He lay down on his back, breathing in the familiar scent of the laundry detergent his mother used.

As of today, Remus hadn’t seen or spoken to Sirius for thirteen days. He missed him sorely. 

He was fourteen when he first realized how he felt about Sirius. It was a Hogsmeade weekend and Remus was confined to the hospital wing, as it was the day after the Full. James, Sirius, and Peter had come to see him after their trip into town. Their pockets were full of Zonko’s products and they were in high spirits. Remus appreciated the visit, but in truth, their cheerful banter was wearing on his nerves. After a while, Peter seemed to sense this and suggested that the three of them head back to the dormitory. Sirius insisted on staying. He shared his chocolate truffles with Remus and read _The Fellowship of the Ring_ aloud. Remus was on his fourth re-read of the series at the time. 

Remus spent a few weeks after that hating himself, and Sirius (a little, but not really at all) for the attraction he was experiencing. Eventually he decided it was not worth dwelling upon, since he was not going to tell anyone and nothing would ever come of it. But he couldn’t help it if sometimes his thoughts drifted that way, whether or not Sirius was around to prompt them.

Something tapped on the window. Remus looked over to see Lily’s barn owl. He opened the window and she flew in, dropping a letter on Remus’s desk. Remus pet the bird and opened the envelope.

_Remus,_

_Come over for lunch tomorrow? It’s been ages since we’ve seen you outside of_ _meetings._

_Yours,_

_Lily_

Remus chewed his lip, hesitating before scrawling a response on the opposite side of the parchment. 

_Gladly. It’s been too long. See you at 12?_

_-R_

As much as Remus missed Sirius, he was hoping that he wouldn’t be at the lunch. Sirius’s twentieth birthday party had been planned for the previous weekend but was canceled when Peter and Sirius were sent on an urgent Order assignment. Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud, but the cancelation was a relief. He was pretty sure Sirius would need more than a few weeks to forgive him for moving out.

* * *

Lily set a sandwich and a bowl of soup in front of Remus. 

“Thank you, Lily,” he told her.

“It’s nothing, really,” she responded, sitting down across from Remus and next to James. “The soup is canned and the sandwiches took no time at all.”

Sirius wasn’t there, nor Peter; it was just the three of them.

“Want a cider?” James asked, cleaning his glasses with a napkin. 

“Sure.”

James opened the fridge with a flick of his wand and levitated three pear ciders to the table. 

Before Remus had even taken a bite of his sandwich, James fixed him with a funny look and said, “I heard you moved out.”

Remus sighed. He should have anticipated this. “Yes.”

“Sirius is pretty torn up about it,” Lily commented, dipping her sandwich in the soup.

Remus stirred his own soup morosely.

“He told us you left without saying why,” James added. “Thinks you’re upset with him about something.”

“I told him I lost my job,” Remus said, annoyed. “Could he not put two and two together?”

“Well, you know how he is.” James had been making similar excuses for Sirius since they were twelve years old. “Point is, you should talk to him.”

Remus took a swig of cider. “It’s not my fault if he thinks everything is about him.” Why was Sirius’s absence just as loud as his presence?

James and Lily exchanged a meaningful look.

“Don’t do that,” Remus groaned. 

James laughed. “I can’t look at my wife?”

“You know what I mean.” Remus didn’t care for this conversation. “The sandwich is delicious, by the way, Lily.”

Lily stared at him with a frown, not swayed by the compliment. He was almost certain that she knew how he felt about Sirius and prayed that she’d continue to be kind enough not to say anything in front of James.

Unexpectedly, she changed the topic. “Have you heard from Peter lately? He couldn’t make it today but didn’t say why.”

Remus hadn’t, and he said so, feeling a bit guilty for neglecting that particular friendship of late. Still, he was grateful not to be talking about Sirius anymore.

Later, while James was taking out the trash, Lily leaned toward Remus, put a hand on his arm, and said quietly, “Just talk to him, yeah?”

* * *

That evening, Remus apparated into the alley next to the flat that was, until recently, where he lived. The alley smelled faintly of trash and piss, as usual. Remus walked around to the front of the building and up the stairs, slippery wet with rainwater. He paused outside of the front door, shivering in the porch light. He had two goals for the visit: 1) to leave Sirius in better spirits than he found him, and 2) to not be persuaded to move back in. He knocked. Then rang the bell. No answer. There was a light on inside, but maybe Sirius wasn’t home. Remus frequently had to remind him to turn off the lights and be mindful of the electricity bill. 

Remus turned the doorknob, icy cold, and found that it wasn’t enchanted to keep him out, which was a good sign. He pushed the door open and walked inside. It smelled like home. His favorite sweater was still on the back of the sofa, right where he’d left it.

“Sirius?” he called. The door to Sirius’s room was open and it was dark inside. Remus sighed.

He wouldn’t wait more than an hour for Sirius to get home. A cup of tea would be nice in the meantime. Remus filled the kettle and turned on the stove. It didn’t whistle when it boiled; Sirius had charmed it not to, since loud, shrill sounds tended to give Remus a headache. 

Remus found the fridge to be mostly empty; there wasn’t even any milk for his tea. He sat at their—Sirius’s—table and wrapped his hands around the mug for warmth. He fantasized about going to bed—here, in his room, not at his parent’s house—and waking up in the morning to a job offer and Sirius cooking something good for breakfast.

Remus heard Sirius coming up the stairs before he was finished with his tea. When Sirius opened the door and his eyes landed on Remus, he started. “Merlin, Moony, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” 

Remus studied Sirius as he took off his coat (damp) and boots (muddy). He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Remus felt a twinge in his chest.

Sirius walked into the kitchen, took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with water from the tap. He drank half of it and then turned to Remus. “Did you forget something?” His voice was rough with exhaustion.

“What? No. I mean, well, I did forget my sweater, but that’s not- I wanted to talk to you.” Eloquent as ever.

“About what?” Sirius leaned against the kitchen counter.

Remus clasped his hands together on the tabletop. “James said you thought I moved out because I was upset with you?”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He was peering into his glass like there was something very interesting at the bottom.

“Which is not the case,” Remus continued. “I left because I was fired and I didn’t think I should keep living here if I couldn’t pay rent.” He watched it register on Sirius’s face.

“I thought-” Sirius bit his lip and shook his head.

“You thought what?”

“Never mind.” Sirius still wouldn’t look at him.

“No. What?” Remus had done his part in communicating, and now it was Sirius’s turn.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius, just spit it out.”

Sirius put the glass down on the counter hard enough that some water sloshed out, but his next words were soft: “I thought you’d finally figured out how I feel about you.”

“What?” Remus was completely at a loss.

“I love you,” Sirius said, finally meeting Remus’s eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for years.” He said it like an apology.

Remus felt like he’d been doused in ice water. His heart hammered frantically. “Why?” He was unable to look away from Sirius. “I mean, why do you think that?” Maybe Sirius was actually a Death Eater in disguise, or was under the Imperius curse, or had drunk a love potion, or _something_.

Sirius’s shoulders sagged. He addressed his next words to the window, even though there was nothing to see but Remus’s reflection. “I think that because it’s true, and I love you because you’re the best person I know.” It sounded like Sirius was dredging each statement from up from his the pit of his stomach. 

Remus laughed breathlessly in disbelief. “I’m barely even a person.”

“You’re just as human as I am,” Sirius said, painfully sincere.

“You’re mad,” Remus told him. 

“Maybe,” Sirius said in a bitter tone, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” 

That was the third time he’d said it. 

Remus rubbed his temples, feeling like he was taking an exam that he hadn’t studied for and didn’t even know about in advance. 

“You don’t believe me?” Sirius asked, seeming very far away despite being little more than the table’s width from Remus.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It does to me.” Sirius was looking more defeated by the moment. His expression suddenly reminded Remus of when he’d first seen Sirius after he ran away from home, after the school year had ended so badly between them and Remus had stopped speaking to Sirius entirely. 

Sirius picked up the glass again, holding it so tightly Remus was surprised it didn’t shatter. He took another sip, then put it down again.

Remus didn’t know what to say or what to believe. He’d never felt so wholly unprepared in his life.

“Can we still be friends?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence.

Remus inhaled and exhaled as slowly as he could manage. Everything depended on what he’d say next. 

Sirius was gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing holding him up. 

“No.” 

Sirius pulled a hand through his hair. He blinked rapidly, like he was trying not to cry. “Right.”

“No, no- I mean- I meant, I was trying to say that I don’t want to _just_ be friends,” Remus said, tripping over his words in an effort to clarify as quickly as possible. 

“Really?” Sirius looked as shocked as Remus felt.

He nodded. Hell, what now?

Sirius straightened up. “So will you move back in?”

Remus looked down at the table and focused on the patterns in the wood. If he kept looking at Sirius he’d probably give him anything he wanted. “This doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have a job.”

“So? I can cover rent for both of us.” Sirius leaned forward, arms folded on top of the chair across from Remus. He smelled like smoke. “I just want you to be here.” 

Remus sighed, tracing the grain in the wood with his fingers. “I’ll think about it.” When he lifted his chin to return Sirius’s gaze, it finally hit him: Sirius really did love him.

He saw his own wonder reflected in Sirius’s face. He thought about reaching across the table or getting up and pulling Sirius toward him.

Then Sirius’s stomach growled.

They both laughed. Sirius put his face in his hands and said, muffled, “Count on me to ruin a moment.”

“When’s the last time you ate something?”

“This morning,” Sirius said quickly.

“Really.”

“Yesterday afternoon,” he admitted. 

Remus pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. “I’m getting takeout.”

“Good idea.”

Remus made his way toward the front door.

“Wait.” Sirius stopped him with a brief touch to his wrist. Remus felt goosebumps creep up his arm as Sirius disappeared into the darkness of his bedroom. He came back after a moment with a fifty-pound note that he passed to Remus.

“Thanks, Pads.” 

They smiled at each other and Remus thought that everything just might be okay, or more than.

* * *

It occurred to Remus while he was in the restaurant waiting for their food that he’d been wrong about Sirius in more than one way. Growing up, he’d always assumed that the reason Sirius often didn’t bother to take care of himself was because he expected other people to do that for him. After all, he’d been born into wealth and received ample attention from his friends as a teenager. Now, Remus thought that maybe it was because no one had ever really taught Sirius to take care of himself, or that it was something worth doing. And Remus had never considered until this evening that he might be _good_ for Sirius, that Sirius was better when he was around. He’d felt so unbalanced in his relationship with Sirius—Remus took a lot and had so little to give—but maybe they’d both been taking care of each other all along.

* * *

When Remus got back, Sirius was sitting on the sofa with a glass of firewhiskey in hand, hair damp from the shower. They spread their teriyaki chicken, lo mein, fried rice, and pork dumplings out on the coffee table and put on the telly. Sirius flipped through the channels before settling on a B horror movie. It felt almost like a normal evening in their flat, except that Remus’s heart rate was much faster than usual and Sirius kept glancing at Remus as if expecting him to change his mind. By the time the credits began to roll, Sirius was drifting off, but he kept jolting awake every few seconds. 

“I’m not going to run away as soon as you fall asleep,” Remus teased. They were sitting very close but not quite touching. The room was pleasantly warm from a heating charm.

“I’m not so sure of that.” Sirius rubbed his eyes.

“Well, I could stay the night,” Remus found himself saying. 

Sirius suddenly looked wide awake.

“Not like that,” Remus added quickly, face flushing. He was not _that_ bold. “I mean, I’ll sleep in my- er, James’ old bed.”

“It’s your bed for as long as you want it.”

“Thanks,” Remus mumbled, pretending to be absorbed by the cereal advert on the telly. “You should really get some rest.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Remus felt Sirius’s hand on his shoulder for a moment. Then Sirius got up, said “Goodnight, Moony,” and gently shut his bedroom door behind him. 

It felt good to be back in the flat, but Remus was a bit ashamed of how he’d let the night end. Sirius had laid his heart bare and Remus wasn’t even brave enough to kiss him like he wanted to. Some Gryffindor he was.

* * *

Remus woke up in the middle of the night to the neighbors shouting. He got out of bed for a glass of water and found Sirius sitting in the living room, staring at the black and white static of the television screen. 

“Alright?”

Sirius didn’t respond, so Remus sat down next to him.

“I saw Regulus today,” Sirius said finally. 

“Shit,” Remus whispered. “What happened?”

“We were on a reconnaissance mission.” Sirius sank farther into the cushions. “Caradoc, Marlene and me. They weren’t supposed to see us.”

Remus rested his hand on Sirius’s arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

“But I was so surprised to see him there that I blew our cover.” Sirius chewed his lip. “I tried to talk to him. Marlene’s in St. Mungo’s because of me.” Sirius turned to Remus, eyes searching. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“No,” Remus said firmly. “No, I don’t.” 

Sirius flicked his wand and the telly shut off, leaving them in the dark but for the streetlight shining in through the window.

Remus grabbed Sirius’s hand and pulled him up. “Come to bed.” He led Sirius to his own room. Remus got beneath the covers and Sirius did the same on the other side of the bed, facing the wall that Remus used to have covered with photographs of his friends. Remus shifted closer so that his chest pressed up against Sirius’s back, and he heard Sirius’s breath quicken. Remus put his arm around Sirius. Sirius put his hand over Remus’s. They fit together so well. There were more than enough reasons why it had taken them so long to get here; Remus was glad they had arrived at all.

* * *

When Remus woke up, Sirius was no longer in the bed with him. Remus pressed his face into the pillow that Sirius had used; it smelled like his rose shampoo. He gave himself a moment to let the previous night settle in his mind before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, casting a freshening charm on his mouth, and getting out of bed. He made for the corner where his wardrobe used to be before remembering that neither the wardrobe nor his clothes were there anymore. It was unfortunate that he couldn’t change out of the clothes he slept in, but he’d live.

Remus figured he might as well move back in. It’s what he wanted and it’s what Sirius wanted, too. And maybe wanting didn’t have to be a bad thing.

Sirius was in the kitchen, hovering by the stove with a spatula in hand. His hair was in a ponytail and he was wearing the Led Zeppelin t-shirt Remus gave him the Christmas before last. “Life on Mars” was playing on the turntable and Sirius was singing along under his breath. Remus turned him around by his shoulder and kissed him. The spatula clattered on the ground and Sirius’s hands found their way into Remus’s hair. Remus cupped Sirius’s face and slid his other hand beneath his shirt. Remus reveled in the warm slide of their lips, in the taste of Sirius’s mouth, the softness of his skin. They were touching here, and here, and here, and-

The fire alarm went off. Remus glanced at the burning pancakes and laughed. Sirius was smiling like nothing else mattered except that they were both in this place, in this moment.

The alarm was silenced and breakfast was abandoned in pursuit of something much more urgent.

* * *

Later, after bedsheets had been wrecked and pancakes consumed, Remus suggested that they go for a ride to enjoy the blue skies that were so rare in November. So they did. Remus didn’t hesitate to lean against Sirius and hold him tight around the waist. As they ascended, Remus tucked his head onto Sirius’s shoulder and told him, over the rush of the wind, that he loved him, just in case he didn’t know.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i've been dying to write a roommates-to-lovers fic for ages. this felt good to get out of my system!
> 
> [come say hi on tumblr!](http://moonynpadfootforever.tumblr.com/)


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